


Midnight Kisses

by rosedarkling



Category: Deep-Sea Prisoner, Mogkeo, Okegom, Seaside Dispatches, funamusea, 海底囚人, 海底囚人 | Deep-Sea Prisoner, 灰色庭園 | Haiiro Teien | The Gray Garden
Genre: Angst and Feels, Drinking, Drunkenness, Feelings, Feelings Realization, Forehead Kisses, Healing, M/M, References to Illness, Sexual Content, suprisingly wholesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:15:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29632413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosedarkling/pseuds/rosedarkling
Summary: It started off with simply wanting to help Victor get well, but habits are hard to break. Nighttime kisses can lead to much more temptation that even a devil can handle.
Relationships: Satanick/Victor Flankenstein
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	1. Hard Habits

**Author's Note:**

> A HUGE, MEGA happy birthday to the one and only Makko! Makko, I am very happy and proud to call you a friend, and I hope to bring you some joy this birthday with some good ol' fashion Satavic. ;) I hope you have the most awesome, blessed day imaginable. You are a beautiful artist and an even lovelier human being. I am blessed to call you friend. Love you, bud! <3 
> 
> To all the Satavic lovers, may you all enjoy, as well. :D <3

If there was one thing Satanick hated in the human realm, it was the fragility of mortal beings. He knew that sickness was part of the human experience as the body would fight it off to build immunity, yet he could never quite comprehend how they survived without the use of healing spells. Of course, they had medicines and other remedies, but it was a foolish waste, in Satanick’s opinion. It would be much more efficient to cast a spell and heal oneself immediately. Unfortunately, humans did not possess such powers like demons or angels. What made it even more irritating was that some humans refused treatment like the stubborn man that lie before him.

Once more, Satanick sat at the bedside of the pallid man that lie sleeping in his bed. He appeared still, yet his face was almost contorted in a grimace. Even in his sleep, he never truly got rest, did he? The dark circles underneath his closed eyes certainly hinted at another restless evening for Victor Flankenstein. Letting out a light sigh, Satanick desperately wanted to reach out to help this man. If only he would allow him to use some of his magic to help him heal up, even if ever so slightly. Victor was quite the fragile human, always getting ill. As a devil over an entire realm, Satanick knew how vital it was for a world’s citizens to be healthy to keep things functioning in one’s own personal life. He, too, had a family and affairs to take care of.

Turning to look towards his right, Satanick noticed the drooping, heavy eyelids of the girl who sat next to him in her own wooden chair. Her eyes were focused on the man in front of her, a somewhat stoic expression on her face. Victor had confided in Satanick that he was worried that his daughter never showed emotion. Well, perhaps _daughters_ , would be more accurate. Crea was a special child, created by the father’s drive to bring his children back to life. Now, the girl remained devoted to her “creator,” watching over him the same way Satanick did. It was only natural that a child would worry about the health of their parents, yet Crea’s face did not quite show that emotion. Still, Satanick liked to think that in her own way, she was processing exactly what to feel while next to her sickly father’s bedside.

The room was silent and still except for the occasional rustling of outside leaves in the cool evening air. The moon was not at its fullest stage, and some clouds obscured it’s brightness, but it still cast enough illumination in the dark room through the window panes. A quiet, peaceful evening. Satanick hoped that Victor could experience some of this peace soon. The poor man overworked himself too much, and now his health was paying for it.

Crea’s head began to lull forward as her chin lowered to rest on her collarbone. She practically jolted herself awake when she realized this, her large green eyes widening for a moment before resuming their hooded stance from earlier. Satanick could not help but give a somewhat melancholic grin at this. The girl was trying her best to remain by her father’s side even in her own tiredness.

“Crea,” Satanick softly whispered out. Her window-like eyes now turned to look at the devil, her gaze unwavering as she acutely listened. “It’s getting late. You best be going to bed.”

The girl stared at Satanick for a few brief seconds before silently nodding. Quietly, she slid forward on her chair, her bare feet hitting the tiled floor beneath her. She gently reached out with her stitched hand, placing it on top of Victor’s as his arm lie across his stomach as he slumbered on. Both were so pale, though Satanick could not comment on that due to his own porcelain visage. The pallid completion of both of these family members was only a further reminder of Victor’s illness and Crea’s mortality that had led to her creation.

“Goodnight, Professor,” she whispered out. She did not quite squeeze his hand in comfort, but it slightly lingered there for a moment, a somewhat concerned expression on her face before turning around to head out of the bedroom. Once there, she turned to look over her right shoulder at Satanick, who kept his eyes focused on her, a comforting smile on his face. He dare not let Crea see how painfully worried he was over his dear friend. “Goodnight, Lord Devil,” she replied.

The tiny smile still on his lips, Satanick softly spoke, “Goodnight, Crea. Sleep well.” He watched as her tiny form disappeared from the doorway, his gaze fixed on the empty black space as she made her way down the hallway to her own room. Once her footsteps had faded and the soft click of her door closing sounded out, silence once more filled the room as Satanick was left alone with Victor. Letting out a soft sigh, Satanick rotated in his chair to face Victor. Of course, the man had not stirred in the slightest, though his facial expression had seemed to relax into a more peaceful stance. For that, he was grateful.

In the quiet, cool evening air, Satanick simply listened to the sounds of nocturnal life just outside the high window. Bugs and various creatures stirred at this hour, and the hooting of an owl could be heard in the distance. A calm, quiet evening that one could easily enjoy and rest in. However, the one noise that the demon was focused on was the light breathing that Victor was producing. His lips were parted slightly as his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. It was funny that one’s breath was part of their life force. For a human’s breathing to stop would mean inevitable death; for a demon, even a head could be reattached should it be lopped off.

Humans really were such fragile creatures.

An icy chill washed through Satanick’s body despite wearing his typical suit attire. He had not yet taken the liberty of getting changed into something a bit more comfortable. He was thankful that Victor had given him a proper room in this place they called home. At first, Satanick had taken to visiting Victor day after day until it became a full on habit. The day that Victor had set up another bed in a spare room for him had honestly elated the devil’s heart. Victor had certainly looked annoyed when he made this declaration to Satanick, though that was fairly typical of this man.

_“It would be bothersome for you to sleep on the floor. This should suffice for now.”_

Victor was a kind soul. Even if he came off as cold, Satanick knew just how sensitive Victor could be. He had personally seen and heard Victor’s pain over these past few weeks – the rendition of how he had lost his wife, children, and soon the rest of his remaining family; how it was all his fault that Crea never laughed or smiled. Victor really was a troubled soul.

Leaning forward in his chair, Satanick barely registered that his hand was hovering over Victor’s. As Victor’s breathing steadily raised and lowered his stomach, Satanick’s fingers gently brushed across the back of his hand. Despite how pale Victor’s skin was, a faint bit of warmth was still present three. Warmth indicated life….

Yes, Victor was still alive and breathing.

So why did it pain Satanick so deeply to imagine this man slipping into eternity? The tight squeeze on Satanick’s heart threatened to crush it. If he could, Satanick would take away all of Victor’s pain, all of his ills….

His hand now rested gently on top of Victor’s – his black nails being the only color over such porcelain skin and sheets – Satanick found himself standing up from his chair to now hover over Victor. He did not know what compelled him to lean over him like this, and even doing so was causing his heart to palpate rapidly. What if Victor woke and saw him in such a position? Would he hate him for this?

Perhaps… just a quick spell would be fine…. 

His heart felt as if it was going to pound out of his chest at this rate. It was unnecessary to perform the spell in this way, yet Satanick felt that this was something he had to do – something he wanted to do. Moving his face closer to Victor’s forehead, Satanick gently pressed his lips there. His long black bangs streaked with white rested still on his face, only moved by the momentary kiss that Satanick placed there. A slight tingle left Satanick’s body as a new one flowed replaced it. Just a tiny bit of his power; that was all Victor needed. Any more and he would wake suspicious as to why he suddenly felt fully better. Surely just a little bit would be okay to help Victor get back on the mend soon.

Yes. That’s all it was. Crea needed her father, and that meant that Victor needed to recover. Slowly, but surely.... Even if this was an unnecessary method on proceeding to help Victor heal, Satanick could not control this insatiable desire that screamed at him. Pulling back, Satanick’s warm breath ruffled Victor’s bangs. Still, the man did not move an inch as he slept blissfully unaware of any activity taking place. Victor rested on as Satanick raised himself up. He kept his composure, not showing any emotion or signs of embarrassment on his face, yet inside the devil’s nerves were a veritable mess. He should not have given in to his own desires. Be that as it may, Satanick did not regret this in the slightest.

As quietly as he could, Satanick’s slipped out of the room, trying to keep his black shoes from echoing off the tiles. At the doorway, Satanick turned to look over his right shoulder. Still no movement from Victor – just the faded moonlight streaming in over part of his bedsheets. His own messy black locks moved around his head as Satanick faced forward again. He could see well enough in the dark hallway, which was another blessing of being an immortal being. Closing his bright purple eyes for a moment, Satanick could still feel the warmth of Victor’s skin on his fingertips and the slight tickle he had felt across his lips from such a small kiss. Raising the same hand that had touched Victor, Satanick lightly met his lips, once more feeling the sensation of Victor there.

Sliding his hand down from his mouth, Satanick placed it over his pounding heart as he slipped through the threshold. Reaching behind him, he silently closed the door behind him with a soft click. The darkness of the hallway enveloped Satanick. The ruling devil of Ne-no-Kuni was used to such darkness in his life, yet this time, he welcomed it with a smile as the warmth of this evening drowned out any coolness the night air brought him.

Night after night, Satanick took it upon himself to watch over Victor. It was not a mandatory thing – of course it wasn’t. Still, the man could not seem to tear himself away from the other. The first day after Satanick had given him some healing, Victor did seem to have a bit more stamina. The man still possessed traces of dark circles underneath his eyes yet he seemed to have a bit more vigor as he went about his routine. Whether reading to Crea, taking care of the gardens, or spending time in his study room, Satanick kept a close eye on him. Per usual, he would spend time with both father and daughter. He enjoyed aiding Victor in whatever he was working on and helping Crea with baking was always a special treat.

However, the highlight of Satanick’s day was when he would visit Victor in the evening to check on him. By sunset, Victor was more than exhausted, and shortly after dinner, he would excuse himself to head to bed. Satanick did not mind in cleaning up, and he enjoyed getting to teach Crea new skills. The first night, Victor had enough strength to remain awake so Crea could say goodnight to him. Shortly after, the man fell asleep, and Satanick was able to accomplish his secret mission. Another soft kiss on Victor’s forehead, and another small push of magic into him, Satanick relished in getting to breathe in Victor’s scent. Once more, the warm tingle filled Satanick as his lips met Victor’s skin and hair. Each night, he would head back down the dark hallway to his quarters, lying down on the soft pillow and sheets provided to him. Those things did not matter to Satanick, though they did help provide a bit more warmth on colder evenings. Even so, the steady heat inside his chest was enough to fill him. It spread throughout his being just like the moonlight that seemed to grow brighter each night as day bled into day.

Seeing Victor regain his strength with each sunrise filled the devil with pride. The stereotypical attributes of such a species would warrant one to believe that he was only here to drain this human’s life force from him or tempt him to the gates of hell. It was almost laughable the silly fables this world believed. Ironic that the lesson of one particular day for Crea was on various topics surrounding such tales in history.

Day after day, night after night, life moved along at its own pace. Everything seemed to be returning to normal – well, as normal as it could get with a human, created daughter, and a devil. It would be a lie if Satanick didn’t admit that he was mildly disappointed about these ongoing. Not to say that he was not pleased that Victor was getting back to his normal self – of course he was! Still, it did put a damper on his new routine. With each progression of Victor’s health, Satanick’s nightly visits would become later and later, creeping ever closer and closer to midnight. Nevertheless, Satanick would come to Victor’s side. By the third night, Satanick realized that to use any more of his power would go beyond Victor’s normal status. If he had his way, Satanick would gladly try to take away whatever illness hold Victor back in life. He would love to do such a thing for this man, yet he dare not overstep such a boundary. Victor would never forgive him for such a thing.

Victor… might never forgive him if he found out about this….

“Satanick?”

Satanick’s head snapped up when he heard Victor speak. Sititng across from him at the wooden table in the side room, Victor’s eyebrow was raised in a curious expression. In his right hand, he held a bottle of brandy. The top was poised over the edge of the glass clutched in his left hand.

Ah, right; Victor was feeling better so he was once again indulging himself in his relaxation techniques. Satanick enjoyed getting these times when he could just sit and talk with Victor. These were the moments he really enjoyed. He really should not be reminiscing over the past few days when right now Victor was with him in the present.

“Ah, sorry,” Satanick chuckled, waving his hand through the air. “I got sidetracked in my thoughts.” Victor shook his head at this, continuing where he had left off in, pouring the golden liquor over the ice in his glass. Satanick gave a brief smile at this display, reaching for a nearby cigarette to light up. It was rare that he smoked, but he did enjoy one every now and then. Besides, he felt that he deserved his own way to relax this evening. Chances were he was not going to be able to see Victor tonight as per usual. It had only been a couple of days that he had begun this new habit, but one that Satanick would miss. Leaning forward, Satanick placed his elbows on the table, pulling the cigarette from his mouth as he exhaled a puff.

As the smoke listlessly drifted through the air, Satanick happily began chatting with the man who’s company he had come to crave. Watching Victor once more acting like his usual self put Satanick at ease knowing Victor was on the mend. He had not realized how much he had truly missed his time with this man….

Time ticked on, and the smell of smoke and liquor was heavy in the air. The devil lord took Victor up on his offer to have a drink, though Satanick could not help but worry for Victor’s health yet again when seeing him so casually throw back three glasses of brandy among the occasional cigarette.

“Are you sure you should be drinking so much, Victor?” Satanick asked. The usual teasing jibe in his tone was still there, though it was certainly laced with much more concern than usual.

However, all that earned him was a short, breathy snort as Victor once more brought the glass to his lips. His breath fogged it before taking another dreg from it. As the warm liquid slid down his throat with the familiar burning sensation, Victor could not help but find it amusing that a demon was so concerned over his wellbeing with drinking. Now that the contents were depleted, Victor removed the glass from his lips, plopping it onto the wooden table alongside the sullied ashtray. “Aren’t demons and devils supposed to encourage the temptation?” he retorted.

Was Victor mocking him? He was not exactly the type of man to offer teasing rebuttals. Satanick had to admit that he found it quite endearing in its own way. Nevertheless, he still worried for Victor. Deciding to take the lead on putting an end to tonight’s “festivities,” Satanick reached forward to crush the cigarette he had been smoking into the already filled tray of ash and stubs. Victor’s dark eyes simply watched him as he did so, following along as Satanick stood up, stretching his arms above his head in an almost showy display.

“It’s getting late. I think it best to get some rest,” Satanick announced. At first, Victor made no move to follow his suit, simply looking at Satanick as if some strange occurrence had just happened. In a way, he supposed it had. “You shouldn’t push yourself, Victor,” he continued to admonish. “Besides, Crea will be up bright and early. We can’t keep her waiting, now can we?” He offered a teasing wink to Victor, who only rolled his eyes at the insistent demon. Staring at those black depths, Satanick noticed how glassy the man’s eyes had become. Even behind his ever present monocle, he could see that Victor had perhaps drank a bit too much this evening. That only caused Satanick to feel more anxious for the man’s health, yet he dare not overstep his bounds and admonish Victor any further. It seemed he had received the message loud and clear, though, as the thin frame of the scientist now stood from his position. 

Drinking down the last dregs of liquor that remained in his glass, Victor placed it back on the table. He appeared composed enough, yet Satanick picked up on the ever so subtle wobble in Victor’s hand. A look of worry flashed across his face for a moment, but he quickly hid it when Victor’s gaze met his.

“You really are a strange demon, Satanick.”

His name. Satanick loved to hear his name come from that man’s mouth. He could still remember the first time Victor had called him by it, and the devil’s heart once more swelled with a sense of pride and comfort at this fact.

Doing his best to now hide these new emotions, Satanick now chuckled softly. “I’ve told you before, Victor – I’m not some run-of-the-mill demon. I’m the great and awesome devil lord Satanick.”

“That’s for sure,” Victor huffed, a slight snort in his voice that made Satanick’s heart soar. Victor was clearly inebriated – at least enough that he was letting his guard down to even offer this modicum of laughter.

The inner turmoil began to stir inside Satanick as he questioned exactly what he should be doing right now. The logical answer was to get to bed as soon as possible, especially for Victor’s sake. However, it really was tempting to simply stay in this room chatting the night away if Victor was truly in such a friendly mood.

Reason won the small battle, and Satanick conceded to himself. “Come, come. It’s time for bed.” The first to turn on his heel, Satanick made his way out of the room and down the small hallway to his quarters. He peeked back to make sure that Victor was following along to his own room nearby. Thankfully, he was, and Satanick let out a sigh of relief. At least Victor still possessed enough common sense to know his limits.

Arriving at his room, Satanick placed his hand on the knob to enter but not before double checking that Victor had made it to his. The man was already ready to make his way to bed, but he turned to look down the hall at the devil that had stopped. An eyebrow raised in confusion once more as Victor asked, “What?”

Shaking his head, Satanick tried to clear his jumbled thoughts to ease Victor’s mind. “Nothing, nothing!” he jovially replied. “Do sleep well, Victor.”

“Uh huh,” the man replied. He kept his eyes on Satanick for a brief moment more, as if inspecting him for some ulterior motive. His gaze wasn’t intense – far from it, actually – yet it only caused Satanick’s heartbeat to accelerate. Thankfully, Victor was the first one to break eye contact as he slipped into his bedroom, shutting the door behind himself.

Letting out a deep breath that he had not realized was hitched in his throat, Satanick turned the knob to his own room, slipping inside the dim haven. Softly closing the door, the devil leaned back against it, craning his neck to look up at the ceiling as if it would provide him some answers to what he was feeling. His spiraled purple horns lightly scraped the wooden door when he moved, yet his bright amethyst eyes remained fixed. The stone ceiling offered no resolutions, but at least the full moon shone brightly tonight to cast some light over the shadows that plagued his mind.

Lowering his chin, Satanick now stared through the window at the large, bright orb in the sky. Just from the way the moon hung – as if on a string – Satanick estimated that it was approaching midnight.

Tonight was surely going to be strange for him to break this new habit. The devil lord raised his right hand to place it over his chest, hoping to calm his pounding, somewhat aching heart. Digging his fingers into his vest, Satanick whispered out to the empty air, “You’re a fool, Satanick.”

Right now, he did not quite feel as great and awesome as he liked to pretend he was.


	2. Special Fabrications

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The good news is that I have a lot more in mind to write for this pair! The bad news is that there will be a THIRD chapter, and I'm so sorry to make you wait! I will keep working on this as FAST as possible! Thank you for bearing with me; I want this to be special. <3

Old habits die hard. That was the saying, right?

Once more at Victor’s bedside, Satanick tried to use that age-old quote to justify why he was here once more. There was no reason for him to be here; he knew that well enough. He had completed his little mission that he had undertaken, and now it was time to end it. Ever the being that reacted by emotions and not reasoning, Satanick found it hard to break this addiction.

 _There’s no point in this,_ he tried to tell himself. _Just turn around and go back to bed._

His mind told him all the things he wanted to hear, but his body would not comply. In fact, Satanick found himself creeping closer to Victor’s bedside. He had long since taken off all of his extra attire to be comfortable sleeping, but no amount of vest and shoe removal would keep him warm among the bed sheets.

No. What he wanted – what he _needed_ – was the warmth he had begun to crave that only Victor could give him.

 _Just one more time. One more kiss, and I’ll stop._ How he desperately wanted to believe this. A man kept his word. This should be no different than making a deal with someone else. Maybe he was just a fickle, selfish demon that knew no self-control.

Be that as it may, no amount of self-deprecation was letting Satanick walk away. Instead, he found himself once more bent over Victor’s sleeping form as he lie underneath his bed sheets. His breathing was steady, and the closer Satanick got, the more he could still smell the distinct odor of alcohol as it drifted from his parted lips.

Just a simple kiss. That’s all he needed. One more kiss, and he would break this routine even if it internally killed him to do so. Tonight, he would cherish the final kiss – that was Satanick’s resolution as he leaned in to place the parting gift upon Victor’s forehead.

….

Alcohol might be a good way to help oneself fall asleep, but Victor should have realized that it was not exactly the most reliable sleep agent. He could feel himself slowly waking to consciousness as the shadows of sleep dissipated from his mind. How long had he been sleeping for? The only way to determine that was to force his heavy eyelids apart and get a better inventory of his surroundings. In a way, he silently hoped that it was still early in the morning hours. He would even take dawn as an acceptable time of day; if it allotted him even a couple of hours respite, he would gladly take it.

Cracking open his eyes, Victor tried to focus his somewhat blurred vision to make out the lighting in the room. However, the first thing that began to blend into a cohesive shape was a dark figure looming over him.

Startled by this, Victor gasped as his eyes fully flung open. Instinct took over, and he immediately bolted upright, slamming his forehead into that of the dark being that overshadowed him. “Ah!” the man groaned out as pain radiated through his head. How it disturbed him that he could be so ignorant to jolt up like this right into this perpetrator. Still, it appeared that this unforeseen strategy worked, as the being also groaned out as they pulled back from him. Victor’s heart slammed against the walls of his chest from the sudden surprise, yet that was not the only thing that banged. He raised his right hand up to his throbbing head as he slid backwards on the bed, tangled in the white bedsheets. It did not help that his head was still pounding and foggy from the liquor. “Ugghh,” Victor moaned as he tried to concentrate on what was occurring.

Just who was this?! What did they want from him?!

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness of his bedroom, he could make out the outline of this tall being. The spiraled horns protruding from his messy locks certainly were a dead giveaway as to who this form belonged to. His whines of, “Ow, ow, ow!” also betrayed him from the tone of voice alone.

“S – Satanick!” Victor gasped out, feeling the sweat that had beaded on his body beginning to send a cool shiver over as he tried to settle down from the fright. As he now found himself relaxing a bit that he knew for certain it was not a random intruder, Victor narrowed his eyes as he glared behind the fingers of his hand. It really was not aiding him in the least to hold his aching head. Still, he felt a slight disturbance at having been woken up in such a manner. Was this the true cause behind his lack of sleep? He grumbled at this thought. “What in blazes are you doing?!” he hissed out, though he tried to keep his voice down to a harsh whisper lest he disturb Crea. “Do you have any idea what time it is?!” Of course, Victor had no clue as to the exact hour either. Nevertheless, he figured it was quite late into the night or early morning; the moonlight streaming in from his right was indicator enough of that.

The devil had also naturally raised his own hands to fend off the spike of pain in his head. That alone was startling, but what surprised him even more was that Victor had awoken. After all, he hadn’t all these previous times. Perhaps he truly was feeling better now to the point where he could sense when an interloper was in his bedroom. What made matters even worse was that Victor had caught him in such a precarious position. The pain in his head was nothing compared to the trepidation he was now experiencing.

“I – I’m sorry, Victor,” Satanick stuttered out, though he tried to keep his composure – to remain aloof and act as though nothing was amiss. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Running a hand through his bangs and to the back of his hair, further ruffling it, Victor grumbled out, “Well, you did.” He placed his hand back over his head, rubbing the aching spot while simultaneously trying to stop the alcohol induced headache. Finally lowering his hand, Victor raised his gaze to meet Satanick’s head on. The man wore a certain expression, one that Victor could not place his finger on. Just what was with this man? Finding himself speaking his thoughts aloud, Victor questioned, “Just what were you up to, Satanick?” His eyes somewhat narrowed as he blurted out exactly what was on his mind. “You weren’t meddling with things, were you?”

Ice spread through Satanick’s veins at such a point blank accusation. Just what could he say to this? The truth was that he had been meddling, but only if ever so slightly. All he had wanted was to help Victor get well; he dare not force anything more onto him. But what could he possibly say in response to such a question? To lie would be simple, but why risk such a thing for Victor to end up suspicious of him? Of course, he was already wary thanks to having seen Satanick hovering over him. The truth would be best, wouldn’t it?

The truth….

“I….” There was no use hiding the truth. Why should he lie any further to this man? How could he? He’d been lying to himself for this long; that was entirely different, and one truth that he would stifle down until the day his immortality ceased, if ever. At least… that had always been the plan.

_Only fools make plans._

He would have gladly played the part of the fool. He would have loved to have kept that role for longer. But Victor was smart; of course he was piecing things together. Why should he continue fibbing to this man? Why continue tormenting himself with these fabrications? Yes, he probably deserved it, but not Victor…. Never Victor.

Satanick’s eyes met Victor’s once more as the man simply stared at him, awaiting the devil’s response. He looked so much different with his monocle over his right eye. At least in this state, Satanick got to see his face in its entirety. He was a handsome man, and seeing Victor against the wall, his hair a mess, his eyes glassy….

There was no further need to fib….

“I was going… to do this.” Without a moment’s hesitation, Satanick found himself moving directly in front of Victor. His knees hit the edge of the bed, and before he could think otherwise, he found himself kneeling on the bed on his hands and knees. Victor was already backed into the wall, yet his body meshed further into the stone as far as he could. Unmoving, he simply stared with somewhat shaking, dilated eyes. Satanick worried that perhaps he was pushing him too much, yet Victor was not forcing him away. Satanick determined that the man suspected what was coming. His long legs now straddling Victor’s, Satanick pressed his palms into the bed as he moved his face closer to his. Normally he would keep his head straight so his lips could meet Victor’s forehead; this time, Satanick lowered his face so they were now eye to eye. Noses practically touching now, Satanick could feel Victor’s warm breath across his face. Even with such proximity, Victor still was not pushing Satanick away.

Perhaps… he wanted this, too…?

The thought alone was enough to make Satanick go crazy, as he could feel his heart pounding rapidly in his chest. In fact, he dare say he could hear Victor’s heart beating just as fast with how his breathing was increasing. His eyes still appeared a bit glassy even with their heavy eyelids, and his cheeks had a bit more color to them than usual. Was it from the drinks? Was it from the closeness? Both? Whatever the reason, Satanick honestly did not care.

All that mattered right now was the warm, tingling sensation that flooded his body as his lips pressed against Victor’s for the first time. It was almost enough to make Satanick collapse on top of him feeling these somewhat thin yet still plump enough lips pressed against his. He wanted to be gentle with Victor, yet he could not help but feel the insatiable desire to press his lips even harder onto his. How he wanted to grip onto Victor and pull him into a deep embrace – so deep that the two could meld together. Yet he dare not. Instead, he would do his best to control this uncontainable, mounting desire.

In his own way, Satanick could not help but find it almost ironic – he truly was a demon ready to devour this fragile human being.

Before Satanick realized it, he had his knees sinking into the bed next to Victor’s hips. He crouched over him, holding his weight up. Satanick’s eyes shut, and his hands gripped onto Victor’s shoulders. For a man, he was quite petite in terms of muscular form. Was it from his illness that he could not retain much strength or tone? The thought of Victor being in such a vulnerable position made Satanick’s gut sink. It was only a kiss, but was this too much to put him through? Part of Satanick felt as if he should pull away and put a stop to his selfish desires. This was beyond foolish of him to pull such a stunt simply because Victor had caught him in the act. However, it really was not a lie; in many ways, Satanick had always been yearning for Victor.

“Mmm.”

Satanick’s eyes cracked open hearing the light moan, as if he had to see it to believe it. He could feel it vibrate against his mouth, yet to see Victor had also closed his eyes only made the jittering in his bloodstream that much more intense. Victor… was enjoying this just like he was….

His heart slammed against his ribcage, his blood sounded in his ears, and the tightening in his groin increased as his legs shook. Gripping a bit harder onto Victor’s shoulders, Satanick pulled him forward so their chests touched. His lips pressed even harder onto Victor’s, and he found himself prying these lips apart to allow his tongue entrance. Now it was Satanick’s turn to moan as his tongue finally tasted Victor. The stinging taste of brandy, the bitter taste of cigarettes, the slightly sweet undertones – what a perfect flavor that only belonged to such a man. The muffled moans blended together with the wet smacking of their lips as Satanick moved his mouth over his. He would occasionally pull back slightly to gasp in a quick breath, his tongue dare not leaving Victor’s. The two danced across each other’s, and with each caress Satanick felt of it on his own, the devil lord felt the continued urge to fully claim Victor. The tightening in his pants was becoming harder, and it took every bit of willpower to contain himself. He could practically feel himself shaking as slid back on the bed, dragging Victor along with him.

Victor now lie supine against the wrinkled sheets, Satanick still hovering above him, lip locked and still clinging onto him. His fingernails practically embedded into the man’s white shirt, and he realized that if he continued at this rate, he might end up hurting him. That terrified Satanick, and he could feel his gut churning in a hodgepodge of self-discipline and selfish desires.

Finally able to pry his mouth away from Victor, Satanick huffed as he pushed himself up. He stared down at Victor pinned beneath him. The man’s eyes were hooded yet still quite dilated even in the dim lighting. His somewhat messy hair fanned around his head, his ponytail sliding further free from its confines. The white streaks seemed to shine even brighter with the midnight glow from outside, further illuminating Victor’s rising and falling chest as he sucked air back into his lungs.

Neither spoke for quite some time, each just staring at the other in a concoction of disbelief and confusion. Had this really just happened? Even Satanick had to question if this was simply a fantasy. Perhaps he had fallen asleep at Victor’s bedside and was simply imagining such a scenario. There was no possibility that Victor would have ever allowed this to happen. Why would today be any different?

Despite all his doubts, Satanick knew that this was real. The heat radiating between both of them was almost tangible. The sound of raspy breaths fading into more stable ones was quite hard to ignore. Victor’s fingers dug into the sheets at his side while Satanick’s remained locked onto his shoulders. Deep amethyst eyes stared back into ebony ones, and the devil felt he was sinking into that deep, dark sea. The sensation of drowning was not a pleasant one, and he almost could feel himself panic at the idea. So why did it feel so right to allow himself to suffocate in the depths? Retribution for a thing like a simple kiss? A demon should never have to apologize to a human for whatever “misdeeds” they might cause. But Victor was special; Victor did not deserve to be sullied by such darkness.

“Victor,” Satanick finally managed to gasp out. “I….” Words that he thought were ready to say now faded from both his memory and tongue.

 _Apologize!_ he reprimanded himself. _Tell him how wrong you were to do such a brazen thing._

The desire to repent and plead for forgiveness was certainly there, but so was an oh-so-familiar emotion – one that begged for attention that had been snuffed out at every opportunity. He had grown close to Victor over these past few years. Not once had he given in to his lusts. The closest he had gotten was when asking Victor to join him in his world. Of course, he had been denied this offer. It pained him that Victor did not even consider such a blessing, yet he honestly could not blame this man. Logically, he knew that such a thing would be quite tempting for a human. What mortal being out there would not jump at the chance to have everlasting life? There – there was the flaw in Satanick’s perfect logic. Victor was not like a normal human. He had already suffered unimaginable pain in his short life that no sane person would ever wish on another.

Victor was truly special.

As Satanick once more opened his mouth to try to force the words out – maybe his body would respond accordingly to remove himself from Victor – Satanick practically jumped when he felt Victor’s hand on his chest. Looking down, Satanick saw the man’s right hand gripping at his dress shirt as if in a fist. He assumed the worse, imagining that Victor was going to angrily shove him away; of course, he wouldn’t blame him if he did.

What Victor said next truly sent shivers down Satanick’s spine in the most terrifying way he could have imagined.

“Keep going,” Victor said, his voice perfectly level and almost calm. Raising his face up, Satanick could also see the serene expression he wore. Ever stoic – no smile on his lips – yet Satanick could see an almost peaceful and resigned look in this man’s features.

“I want you... to continue.”


	3. Temptation

Satanick could scarcely believe what he was hearing. Victor… wasn’t going to push him away? Victor… wanted this...?

“Are – Are you sure?” the devil lord stuttered out. Magnificent him would never be so docile in these matters. When he saw something he wanted, his charm would help him get the object of his affection. Of course, he would be a gentleman about it. Nevertheless, Satanick have never imagined that he would be in this position – and with Victor, no less. Truly, this had to be a fantasy his lovesick mind had created.

A somewhat coy look across his face, Victor tightened his grip on Satanick’s shirt. With a slight tug, Victor pulled Satanick down to him, pressing his lips onto to Satanick’s. The devil’s eyes widened at this bold move – a welcome one, to be sure, but one that also terrified him. As his body naturally responded to Victor’s mouth, Satanick found his fears melting away as both of their hot breath mingled together. Mouths parted, tongues danced, and lips smacked in sloppy yet intense movements. Each kiss only heightened the burning passion Satanick felt, and it was all he could do to control himself from grinding his pelvis over Victor’s. His hands traveled to Victor’s biceps to grip onto them, hoping to steady his ever growing lust. However, this only seemed to make him crave Victor more. Feeling his skin through his clothing was simply not enough.

Victor’s fumbling fingers now began undoing the buttons on Satanick’s shirt. That was enough to send the devil lord over the edge, and his hands now began the same rhythm with Victor’s nightly attire. As air hit Satanick’s warm skin, his fingertips brushed against Victor’s stomach as he undid the final button on his blouse. Victor visibly shuddered at such a light touch, and he gasped, his head momentarily rolling back on the sheets. The ponytail in his hair fully loosened thanks to his movement, and Satanick looked on as his long hair splayed out around him. Streaks of ivory shone on the dark locks, further reminding Satanick of the streaks of moonlight that cascaded over the pair. The devil released his grip on Victor’s arm to gently tangle his fingers in the long locks. He lifted a handful to his face, leaning down to breath in the smell. It was a fresh scent, but one that also spoke of musk – a smell that only another man could have. His glowing eyes filled with lust, Satanick looked down at Victor’s bare chest displayed by his open shirt. He had never seen Victor in such a state – his pale skin with nary a blemish in sight, his glassy eyes, his slightly puff lips from all the kissing. Victor was truly a handsome, beautiful man.

With a tiny smirk on his face, Satanick replied, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

The only way that Satanick could describe what took over him next was pure passion. His mouth once more came crashing down onto Victor’s, and the man followed along. Satanick’s hands eagerly began to caress Victor’s exposed flesh, trailing his fingers over every inch he could see. What an adventure to see Victor squirm when his thumbs brushed across his nipples; what a thrill it was to hear him moan when Satanick’s nails gently raked down his sides. Pure, unadulterated lust pumped through every fiber of Satanick’s being, and he found himself drowning in this hot sea.

He had been desperate for a tiny spark of warmth from a simple forehead kiss. Now, he was experiencing something much more potent. It was dangerous to play with fire – he knew that all too well – but this time was different. Satanick would happily burn if it meant he could continue this escapade with this fragile human being.

Ah, yes; another reminder for the devil to take things a bit more slow. Victor was still human, after all, and humans were such delicate creatures. Satanick knew he had the penchant to act like a true creature of the night when it came to these matters, yet he still had enough common sense that niggled inside his brain to warn him about being more gentle.

Pulling himself up from Victor’s chest where he had been trailing his tongue, Satanick raised his face to stare at into Victor’s. The man’s cheeks were certainly flushed now, and sweat was beginning to bead on his forehead just like it had on his body. Satanick could attest to that as he licked his lips to reignite the flavor of Victor on his palette. He, too, could feel his own body beginning to sweat as he tried to hold back the insatiable craving to take Victor and make him his in the most intimate way he knew how.

“I’ll ask one final time,” Satanick whispered out, garnering Victor’s attention. The man lowered his chin to get a proper look into Satanick’s face from his position crouched over his chest. “Do you want me, Victor?”

….

How long had it been?

How long had it truly been since he’d been touched in such a manner? The usually stoic man honestly did not know. Time had no relevance at this moment as he could only concentrate on what was occurring right before his very eyes. His mind was too heavy; his thoughts could not focus. All Victor felt at this present moment was sparks of flame that raced across his skin and through every nerve in his body. Everything felt ethereal – floating on a cloud was a perfect way to describe it.

Rolling his head towards the right, Victor’s gaze could make out the brightly lit night sky. A crystal clear evening; no such clouds in sight except for the one that was taking him away out onto some unknown sea.

The trace of fingers once more sliding down his torso had Victor letting out a light moan as he tried to direct his thoughts into a more cohesive pattern. He was a man of science, or so he liked to tell himself. Logic and reason were critical in analyzing every angle in that field, yet deduction skills were certainly lacking in this realm. No amount of concentration was helping him navigate what was truly taking place. The harder he tried to fight the burning that was engulfing him, the more he felt himself sinking into the hot, vapory cloud.

Come to think of it, what was he doing…?

….

Victor’s eyes appeared to be unfocused as if he was lost in his own thoughts. Was he pushing him too hard? Satanick feared. This was wrong, wasn’t it – to take advantage of Victor at his most vulnerable time? He wasn’t thinking clearly, and neither was Satanick. The lust was still burning inside of Satanick, and his erection pressed tightly against the wall of his pants. In truth, he could feel Victor’s pushing against his pelvis, too….

“Victor,” Satanick whispered.

“Please,” Victor whispered back, his eyes closing.

Satanick could not believe his ears. Would the normal Victor plead with him? If he was not intoxicated, would he have even progressed this far? These thoughts filled him with a crippling fear that he could not stomach, but….

Victor gasped when Satanick’s hands began undoing the button on his trousers. His fingers brushed over Victor’s bulge encased in the fabric, and Satanick felt that his heart would pound out of his chest at this rate. Still, Victor did not force him away. If anything, he dragged Satanick closer, his hands gripping onto Satanick’s shoulders as his pink-hued cheeks practically glowed. The expression he wore was one that spoke of trying to tame oneself; Satanick could feel the tension in Victor’s pelvis region and the way he dug his fingers into his shoulders. 

Come to think of it, when was the last time Victor had been intimate with another…?

Of course it was none of his business; Satanick knew that. Yet he could not help but ponder just when was the last time Victor had given in to such pleasures? The only one he could think of that might fit that description would be the woman that Victor had called his wife….

Pressing his lips together into a tight line, Satanick stifled back the pang he felt in his chest imagining such a possibility. Victor had once had a wife – someone whom Satanick was sure he deeply cherished. Of course, Satanick was a married man himself, but such relations in Ne-no-Kuni were much different than that of the human world. For Victor, the devil could only imagine what he might be feeling.

Having successfully opened Victor’s pants, Satanick slid his right hand across his chest to clasp his hand over Victor’s as he clung to him. Giving it a gentle squeeze, Satanick’s phlox-colored irises locked onto Victor’s face, waiting for the man to return his gaze. Slowly rolling his head back to the middle of the bed, the man’s ebony eyes met his. The eyes were truly the window to the soul, and in these deep depths, Satanick could see a mixture of confusion and desire, buried pain and excitement of the unknown. Would any other human ever look at a demon in such a way, emotions laid bare like his half-naked body?

Victor was precious to him, and as such, Satanick would treasure this moment.

“Victor, if I hurt you, tell me to stop,” Satanick whispered down at him, though the deepness in his tone was serious. His gaze never wavered from Victor’s as he had to make sure that Victor fully understood that if they proceeded, there would be no going back. Another squeeze to his hand, Satanick reiterated his message. “Do you understand?” he concluded. 

A moment of silence passed between them, and the devil lord feared that Victor was having second thoughts. He would respect his decision if so, yet he could not lie that such a thing would be a bit disappointing. His eyes shifted to his left when he felt Victor begin to move his hand in his. Loosening his grip, Satanick tried to mentally prepare himself for rejection. When Victor’s hand simply rotated so he could intertwine his fingers with his, Satanick met his stare once more for official confirmation.

“Do it.” Victor’s voice was steady. Level. Decisive.

As if possessed by his own demonic force, Satanick did not hesitate. Leaning back, he gripped onto the edges of Victor’s hips to slide his pants down to his ankles – undergarments and all. Now it was Satanick’s turn to feel himself become heated in the face as he stared at Victor. Never in all of eternity did he think he’d be granted such an opportunity to be this close to Victor. Even if it did end up being nothing but a fever dream, Satanick would cherish this mental image. As Victor lie among the crinkled sheets, Satanick made quick work to free himself from the confines of his own pants. His hardened, throbbing member sprung out from his boxers. Victor only momentarily looked down at Satanick, soon averting his eyes as if in embarrassment. It was hard to tell if that was truly the case or not with his already flushed features.

Getting himself into position, Satanick reached for Victor’s right hand. Bringing it up alongside Victor’s head, Satanick interlocked his fingers with Victor’s as Victor stared up at him. Once again, his eyes held a mixture of confusion and lust, but what beautiful pools they were to drown in. Bending his head down so their noses touched, Satanick pressed his forehead to Victor’s as his eyes remained on his. Neither spoke, and the only sounds that could be heard between them both was each of their escalated breathing. With his free right hand, Satanick trailed it along Victor’s left side, feeling him shudder underneath him. Over his hip, his hand finally reached the hard yet soft skin of Victor. As he wrapped his hand around Victor’s penis, the man audibly gasped, bucking upwards to press himself more into Satanick’s hand.

The devil’s breath caught in his chest as he allowed himself to finally drown in the warmth that was Victor Flankenstein. “Victor, I….”

What was he trying to say? Just what… could he offer in his words that would allow Victor to know his true feelings?

The hand that snaked up to grip the back of Satanick’s messy black hair stopped whatever words Satanick speculated over. This same hand that belonged to Victor pushed his lips once more onto Victor’s. Both men ended up moaning against each other as wave after wave of heat washed over them. Around Satanick’s mouth, Victor tore his lips away to say, “Don’t. Don’t speak.”

If that is what he wished, that is what Satanick would give him.

What the devil wouldn’t give to make this moment last for all eternity. Minutes blended together as time ticked on. The moon slowly progressed its travel in the sky, times only indicator as the demon consorted with the human. Victor squeezed Satanick’s hand in his as his other hand’s fingernails dug into the back of Satanick’s skull. This did not disturb Satanick in the least. All of his senses were filled with the presence of one single being.

All he could hear was Victor’s grunts and moans.

The familiar scent of sex filled the air.

Brandy, smoke, and salty skin filled his palate.

Victor’s eyes shut tightly as his mouth hung open gasping for air was a sight to see.

Best of all, he could feel the inner walls of Victor spasming around his cock as he slid into him. At first it was a bit tight, and Satanick feared he had hurt Victor when the man harshly gritted his teeth together. Soon, the rhythm of Satanick’s hips gave way to moans of pleasure as he thrust Victor in steady motions that only increased in speed and intensity. 

As his senses were engrained in Victor, the familiar warmth of releasing himself into someone overtook Satanick. His body shook as he gave a final thrust into Victor’s rectum, spasming as he came. His right hand that had been stroking Victor’s own member was now greeted with the familiar sensation of warm, sticky liquid as Victor soon followed suit.

“Ahhh, hahh!” Victor moaned out.

Propped up on his elbows, Satanick raised his head to look into the man’s face. What a beautiful sight indeed – Victor’s long hair stuck to his face, his eyes shut tightly as he orgasmed His forehead was beaded with sweat, and his mouth hung open in more silent gasps as he twitched around Satanick.

Victor Flankenstein truly was a special human being….

Methodically stroking Victor’s hair, Satanick stared down at the top of the man’s slumbering head. After both had orgasmed, Satanick rolled over onto his back to lie beside Victor. For a while, the only sounds besides early morning life were that of both men’s raspy breathing. In a way, such silence was peaceful.

Satanick then rolled over to his left side to stare at Victor. He had not heard anything from him in a while, and concern began to nibble at the edges of his mind. With his left arm underneath his head, Satanick moved to face Victor. To see Victor looking back at him made his heartbeat steadily drum in his chest as another heat ran through his body.

The man’s heavy eyelids began to droop close, and Satanick could only smile at that. As Victor fell asleep, Satanick gently pulled the man closer to him, his right arm around his waist. With his upper hand, he began to gently stroke Victor’s hair as it draped around his shoulders and back. With both hands occupied twining into the black and white locks, Satanick listen to his breathing. Through slightly parted lips, Victor slept on.

For quite some time, Satanick enjoyed the peace and quiet he felt alongside Victor’s body. If he could, he would want this moment to last forever; for all eternity, he would happily listen to Victor’s breath….

Of course his mind would remind him of such a heartbreaking truth. Reality was finally settling back into play, and Satanick found himself yearning for fantasy to return. Such a thing would be improbable. Victor was a logical man. He had emotions – ones that Satanick had seen with his own two eyes – yet he was not ruled by such things. Reasoning was a part of who he was. To have given in for a night of passion was truly ludicrous. Fictitious.

Victor was human – a fragile being made of flesh, blood, and a limited number of years in this world. To wish for eternity alongside him was….

Determining what must be done, Satanick allowed himself to slip away from Victor as softly and quietly as he could. His arm craved to return around this man’s waist; his fingers begged to keep touching his soft hair strands. Yet he could not risk staying in this room or falling asleep alongside Victor. As much as he would adore such a thing, Satanick knew that the best thing to do would be to allow Victor to sleep blissfully unaware.

Just as his midnight kisses had been given to help Victor heal, the last thing Satanick could offer him right now was a restful mind.

Fixing his attire, Satanick made his way to do the same for Victor. Carefully, he walked around the edge of the bed to Victor’s back. As delicately as he could, he rolled Victor over onto his back to begin adjusting his clothes. Pants back around his hips, shirt re-buttoned, and sheets pulled up to his chin, Satanick stared down at the man whom his heart was screaming for. Desperately he wanted to stay beside this man. What he wouldn’t give to sleep next to him, to wake beside him, to spend the rest of his life with him....

_Selfish. So incredibly, utterly selfish._

It had been a foolish idea to have let himself give in to temptation and claim Victor in his most vulnerable, drunken stupor. It was a mistake to have let himself become so attached to this man.

Victor did not deserve to wake up to the confusion of a devil in his bed. Victor did not need to realize what had actually occurred. It would be best if he simply forgot this whole incident.

Victor deserved much, much more….

Feeling the roiling turmoil in his gut, Satanick reached up to tightly clutch at his shirt as if he could somehow hold his aching heart through the fabric. He had already made so many idiotic choices over the past few days, and tonight in particular. Still, Satanick did not regret his time with Victor. Instead, what he was remorseful over was that he could be so heartless to not even treat Victor the way a gentleman should treat the one he cared about.

Once more standing at Victor’s bedside as he had the last few nights, Satanick began to formulate a new plan. True enough that he was woeful about having taken advantage of Victor, Satanick realized that he could not – and would not – let Victor go so easily.

Bending over Victor one final time, Satanick softly pressed his lips to Victor’s forehead. Breathing in his scent to keep himself warm tonight, Satanick gently pulled back. Hooded eyelids stared down at the relaxed, pale face of Victor Flankenstein as the devil lord whispered out, “Next time. Next time, I will properly ask you to be mine, Victor.”

The room now lie still – silent, serene, and bathed in moonlight over the lone human that a devil had deeply fallen for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry this took extra time to get out! I wanted to find the perfect combination of something hot for Satanick and Victor without making it too out of character, as well as trying to somehow tie into into Seaside 2. Think of these events before Satanick proposes to Victor for him to come to his world, in a sense. But that's the beauty with fics - it can be left open for interpretation from so many angles to give that real angsty feel of what really happens. Will the story play out like the rest of Seaside 2 knowing that Victor will not take Satanick up on his offer? Even after they shared an evening together that only Satanick might remember, leaving the poor devil even further in despair than we originally thought? 
> 
> Or perhaps, in another timeline, Victor would retain some memories of the evening, develop feelings for him, take Satanick up on his offer, and they can live peacefully together? 
> 
> The choice is yours, dear reader. ;) 
> 
> Sorry for my delay, and sorry for the abrupt ending! Again, I like to leave it a bit angsty while also having that sweetness from earlier. And Makko, you are a true dear putting up with me making you wait. Thank you! <3


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